Losing Patience
by owlofathena
Summary: Set 12 years after book 6. Minerva McGonagall is short a Potions professor. Hermione is looking for a new post. MM HG Romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:** This is the revised copy of the chapter, I cut off the disclamer/authors note/summary the first time I submitted it.

**Disclaimer:** J.K Rowling owns everything. Not me. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

**Summary:** The story will be around three chapters (possibly four) long. It does contain F/F themes, although nothing that would upset the T restriction.

Minerva McGonagall, respected headmistress of Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry and paragon of good taste and manners, stalked into her office with a snarl and slammed the door shut behind her. Loudly. They really were the limit. How in the world did the Board expect her to find a replacement at this time of year? It was mid-October for goodness sakes; all of the potentially qualified teachers would have already found jobs at the newly opened Harry Potter Institute for Young Witches and Wizards.

She allowed herself a wry smile when she thought of the other school. Harry had begun the school last year and had managed to coerce close to half of the students that Hogwarts normally would have normally received that school year into joining the Institute. Not that Hogwarts was short of pupils, indeed, the houses were filled to bursting point now and…

Hell. That brought her back to the important subject. Finding a substitute for her Potions professor, who had been the subject of a rather unfortunate accident involving a batch of stale Draught of Living Death. The silly woman was now in the Poisons ward of St. Mungo's and the mediwitch had said she would be unconscious for months. In the meantime Minerva had been forced to teach the Potions classes - a subject which she detested.

'Oh Albus, why are these things always so difficult?' she muttered, glancing at her old friend's portrait on the wall.

'And yet, despite their apparent difficulty, you tend to solve them in astonishingly short periods of time'. Albus Dumbledore was smiling down at her with the trademark twinkle in his eyes.

'It's those…cretins…on the Board of Governors that's making it difficult' Minerva shot a glare at the offending piece of parchment that she'd just received that morning. 'They're being extra careful after last time and making sure that all the potential teachers I find have failings…They made me turn down a man because he had failed his OWL in Divination twenty years previously. _In Divination!_ It has nothing to do at all with potion making!"

'I suggest you send an owl to Harry and ask him to refer you to a possible Potions master'.

Minerva stopped in mid-shuffle of paperwork and stared up at him in amazement. 'How do you do that?' she demanded.

'How do I do _what_, Minerva?'

'Think of the right answer to any problem?'

'I'm deceased, it's amazing what death does for knowledge'

He blissfully ignored the scathing look she sent him, something that would have shaken a lesser man.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Harry's owl arrived the next morning with the morning post. Minerva untied the letter from Hedwig's leg and after giving the white owl a piece of bacon from a nearby plate, slit open the letter.

_Headmistress McGonagall,_

_I am in a rather interesting situation at the moment myself. As you know, both Hermione Granger and Ron Weasely are teaching here at the Institute in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures respectively. As you also undoubtedly know, they split up last year and have been having…difficulties…working alongside one another at the present. _

_Hermione has offered to teach at Hogwarts in the position of Potions Mistress. She feels that it will be more enjoyable than her present post. I shall miss having her working at my school but know that both she and Ron will have an easier time if she moves to Hogwarts. I shall find another Potion's teacher quite easily I'm sure, although I know none as adept as Hermione. _

_Take good care of her. _

_Harry Potter,_

_Headmaster of the Harry Potter Institute for Young Witches and Wizards and Loyal Gryffindor of Hogwarts. _

Minerva blinked. Her problems were solved. The Board would find no quarrel with Hermione's qualifications, indeed, she was almost _overqualified_.

With that, she finished her breakfast and left for her office to notify the governors that she had solved their problems.

IIIIIIIIIIIII

Hermione Granger apparated just outside the Hogwarts gates and was immediately chilled to the bone by the brisk Scottish wind which gleefully ignored the protection of her robes. It had been close to twelve years since she had been a student here and she had forgotten how cold it could be in the fall, even with the sun's rays illuminating the grounds. Silently cursing her bad choice in clothing (garments which were suitable for the sun of London not certainly not Scotland's foul weather) she opened the gates with a touch of her wand and started down the gravel path to the distant castle at a walk. A fast-paced walk. After two minutes of feeling her body temperature drop at an alarming speed Hermione gave in and cast a warming charm. She didn't usually approve of using magic for mundane uses, but this was an exception. It was much too cold for pride.

After fifteen minutes of walking she stood in front of the tall oaken doors of Hogwarts. Gods. It had been a while. Gripping the cold bronze handle, she opened the perfectly balanced door with only a slight pull and stepped into the main hall of her former school.

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Minerva was working her way through the mounds of paperwork on her desk and barely heard the knock on the door.

'Come in' she said, not looking up. The dark paneled door opened soundlessly and light footsteps announced the presence of a visitor.

'I see you haven't changed at all; still up to your ears in paper and books'.

That familiar voice made her look up at once.

'Ms. Granger!

Her former student stood in the sunlight, hazel eyes reflecting the warmth of her smile. Hermione's hair was as curly as ever, although tamed somewhat from what it had been in her youth. Her dark blue robes were of a lighter material from what the staff at Hogwarts normally wore, obviously the Institute had reliable heating methods, a far cry from the cold halls of the castle. Minerva stood up, the report she had been writing abandoned on her desk, and took her visitor's hands in her own.

"I am sorry about ignoring you, I lost track of the time.'

'Please don't apologize. I take it that being Headmistress doesn't excuse you from doing paperwork'.

'On the contrary, it's increased two-fold from what it was when I was Deputy' Minerva muttered, glancing at the pile on her desk. 'I don't know how I'd manage it if I had to continue to substitute in Potions. Thank you for saving me from that horrible fate.'

'I never had any difficulty with the paperwork' Albus interjected from his place on the wall.

'That's only because you handed most of it to me and threw the rest in the fire!' Minerva shot back.

'I found it to be an extremely efficient method.'

Hermione laughed. 'It's good to see you Professor Dumbledore. Neither of you have changed at all.'

'Oh I don't know about that. Minerva has grown even more cynical over the years - if that is even possible - and I have managed to curb my sherbet lemon habit down to a package a day'.

Even Minerva had to smile at that.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hermione settled in to teaching at her former school almost immediately. The students loved her and her fellow teachers found her to be a professional who could be counted on to complete far more than her share of work.

Every Friday evening she would meet Minerva in her office for a chess match. Albus had suggested that they renew the tradition as Minerva had been deprived of the game for more than ten years, and he had offered to assist the less than adept Hermione.

She needed the help.

'Checkmate.' Minerva allowed herself a small smile. 'You almost had me three turns ago.'

It was late November and it had been raining constantly for the past few weeks. Her old pupil was staring at the board with a frown. 'I was wondering about that. I just didn't want to lose my queen to your pawn. It would have taken hours to corner your king.'

'Patience is a key element of chess, not just knowledge and strategy.'

Hermione stared at her. She looked as if she'd been slapped in the face. After a moment the young woman shook her head slightly as if to clear it and standing up, put on a forced smile.

'Goodnight Minerva, thanks for the game. Goodnight Albus, we almost beat her this time.' With that she walked out of the office without another word.

Minerva sat by the fire in her chair, stunned. What had she said to make Hermione act like that? What had she done? Why was Hermione…

Albus interrupted her train of thought.

'Go after her, Minerva, find out what's wrong.'

Minerva left her office at a dead run.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hermione was sitting on the front steps of the castle and staring out over the lake, eyes unfocused, knees folded to her chest. The moon was hidden by black clouds, signaling the makings of yet another rainstorm. She shouldn't have rushed off like that, she'd have to apologize to Minerva and Albus later. They had had no way of knowing.

'Hermione?'

Her head whipped around. Minerva was standing on the top step, looking down on her. The night breeze caught her green robes, whipping them to and fro along with several strands of hair that had escaped her bun. Her pale face was emotionless but her dark eyes betrayed her concern.

'Minerva. I am sorry, I didn't mean to run off like that.'

'I know you had your reasons. Please come inside, you could freeze out here if you don't drown first. '

Hermione sighed and hesitated.

'Would you join me in my rooms for tea?' Minerva _was_ worried, her voice had wavered at the end of that sentence. Hermione couldn't bear to see her colleague in pain and after a moment's pause, nodded her head in assent and rose to her feet.

They retreated back into the safety of the castle just as the first drops of rain began to fall.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Minerva's rooms were in the same location as they had been during Hermione's time as a student. Walking though the door, Hermione had to stop for a second and collect her scattered thoughts. The office that she had spent so many hours during her in youth had disappeared. The writing desk that had once sat in the middle of the room had been replaced by several tall bookshelves filled to bursting point with ancient, leather-bound tomes and stacks of papers.

Her former teacher noted her shock with a slight smile.

'I couldn't fit them all into my private quarters. They're all books that were handed down the McGonagall line. You're welcome to look at them whenever you wish.'

Hermione nodded, speechless. She could spend months in here.

'Hermione? Please come in, the fire's in here. As are the other books.'

The possibility of more books was enough to lure her new colleague into the well-heated room. Hermione stepped through the open door beside the nearest bookshelf and was immediately accosted by Minerva, who caught her by the shoulders and maneuvered her to one of the chairs by the fireplace. After assuring herself that Hermione wasn't going to stray away from the hearth, Minerva set about making tea.

From her position by the fire, Hermione could see the rest of the room. As promised, more bookshelves lined the walls, complete with even more sets of books. She smiled to herself - it was exactly like Minerva to bring her work into her private life. A large four-poster bed with red and gold drapery stood in one corner of the room, complete with carved lions and vines on the wooden legs and panels. Next to the bed was a large cherry wardrobe with a full length mirror beside it. There was very little decoration or ornamentation in the room aside from the carvings on the bed. It fitted its owner perfectly.

'You said these books belonged to your family?'

Minerva glanced over at her from a side table where she was making tea. 'Yes. The McGonagalls were famed for their obsession with literature. As I am the last in the line, I was fortunate enough to inherit the complete library from my parents.'

'You haven't any family?'

'No. I was an only child. My mother died when I was very young and my father was killed in the war against Grindlewald. I never married and that left me with only a few relatives, all of whom were childless and are now deceased.'

Hermione was stunned. She had never bothered to find out anything about her former teacher's past, and now it was being related to her in a matter-of-fact, detached manner. The woman really did have an infailiable grip on her emotions.

Minerva had finished pouring the tea and, walking over to her, handed her one of the cups and set a plate of ginger biscuits down on the side table. As Hermione brought the cup to her lips, Minerva settled gracefully in the armchair opposite and studied her intently over the rim of her own cup, not drinking.

'I take it that I reminded you of someone after our chess match.'

Hermione stopped mid-sip. After a long pause she said 'Yes.'

'May I enquire as to the person's identity?'

'Ron.'

Minerva leaned back into her chair and lowered her teacup to her lap, holding it with both hands, absorbing the warmth into her skin and waiting for the young woman to elaborate. Hermione continued in a quiet voice.

'The last time I played chess was with him. I lost…badly. He didn't show much restraint in gloating over his victory. He began to list reasons as to why I was such a bad chess player…he said that I lacked patience, that I was too set in my ways…too cautious…unable to take risks. We broke up soon after that. Tonight's chess match brought those memories back full force. It was…a shock.'

Hermione paused as her voice caught and stumbled, her head bowed, hair slipping off her shoulders to cover her face. Minerva quickly set her cup on the table and moved over to Hermione, kneeling on the carpet and looking up at her.

'Oh, dearest, I am sorry. I had no idea.'

Hermione shook her head. 'It's alright. You had no way of knowing.' She was staring into the flames flickering inside the fireplace, lost in memories.

Minerva hesitatingly placed a hand on the younger woman's, thumb under her palm. When Hermione didn't draw away, she gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

'When did this happen?'

'Close to a year ago. We separated just before Christmas. Ginny and Harry were both so supportive, they sympathized with me. I thought we could continue to work together as colleagues, after all, I would only ever see him at meals and meetings. I couldn't have been more wrong. We butted heads whenever we ran into one another. I considered refusing to teach this year but couldn't let Harry down. I jumped at the opportunity once I heard that you were looking for a Potion's teacher.

'And I am so grateful that you accepted. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't. I probably would still be teaching it and I never enjoyed Potions, despite the flawless marks I received in it. It was too much like cooking; an activity that I've always hated.'

Hermione met her eyes at that, smiling, despite the tears. An excellent sign. Minerva raised her hand to her cheek and lightly brushed away a stray tear with her thumb.

The younger woman blushed and glanced away. 'I am sorry, I don't normally lose control like this.'

'Emotions are wonderful things to have, it's good to let them out once in a while, just to know that they're still there.'

Hermione stared at her. That sentence sounded utterly out of place coming from the mouth of the normally impassive and unemotional woman that she knew. Minerva noted her expression and blushed.

'Granted, I'm quoting Albus by saying that but he tended to be right about most things that involved feelings.'

Hermione leaned down and threw her arms around Minerva's neck. She felt the older woman tense up, obviously a stranger to being hugged but after a moment her former mentor relaxed into the embrace.

'Thank you,' she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:** Thanks to _fan-rei_ for noticing that I'd blocked the non-FF members from posting reviews. I'm still working out the kinks with my account.

I liked writing this chapter more than the last. Can you tell?

IIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hermione yawned as she crawled out of her bed and brushed the sleep out of the corners of her eyes. It was Christmas day and every last student had gone home for the holidays. Many of the teachers had left too, leaving only the Headmistress and herself along with Helga Pince the Librarian and Argus Filch, caretaker of the school. Hermione had turned down Harry and Ginny's offer of Christmas dinner, knowing that they rarely had many private moments with one another. Ginny had mentioned offhandedly that Ron had gone down to Italy to chase girls and Hermione had rolled her eyes at this. He was obviously enjoying his freedom…

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw the note on her bed side table. A small pile of presents was on the floor below it. Picking up the letter Hermione tapped it with her wand and pulled out the piece of parchment that lay inside. Carefully unfolding it, she recognized the precise, flowing hand immediately.

_Hermione, _

_I have recently learned that Madam Pince and Mr. Filch will be dining privately tonight. As it seems rather silly to use the Great Hall for dinner, would you grace me with your company tonight in my rooms at 8:00 for Christmas Dinner?_

_Minerva. _

Hermione rushed to her bedroom desk for a piece of parchment and quill, knocking over a chair in her haste to reply.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

At eight o'clock sharp, Hermione knocked on the door to Minerva's rooms. She had, after much debate, decided on her best blue dress robes. The fabric was a little too thin for the castle's climate but she was fairly sure that Minerva would have the fireplace lit during dinner.

Her jaw dropped when the door opened.

Hermione had never seen Minerva McGonagall with her hair down. The difference in her appearance was extraordinary. Had she not known that these were her former teacher's quarters she might have thought that she was at the wrong door. The woman standing before her was dressed in a set of rich green and black robes that were made of a much lighter material than her normal dress. Her dark hair flowed down her back in delicate waves. A ornate silver necklace encircled her elegant neck. She looked stunning. The only clue that this woman might be her colleague was the square-framed spectacles that she wore.

'Hermione, thank you for coming. You look lovely'. Minerva was smiling at her and holding the door open expectantly. 'Please come in'.

Hermione struggled for words and failed miserably. She managed a weak smile in return and entered the warm room in silence. It was all too much.

IIIIIIIIIIIII

Minerva was concerned. Hermione looked ill. Very ill. She had hardly touched her dinner. She barely responded to Minerva's questions. This was so unlike the normally cheerful and engaging young woman she knew. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer.

'Hermione?'

Her guest looked at her, eyes slightly unfocused. They hadn't had any wine and Minerva was at a loss as to what might be making Hermione act like this.

'Is anything the matter? You seem rather…' Minerva racked her mind for an appropriate word '…distracted.'

The woman across from her gave a slight nod.

'Are you unwell? Do you want to lie down for a moment?'

There was no response this time, no sign that Hermione had even heard her.

Abandoning verbal communication, Minerva stood up and quickly walked around the table. Placing an arm under Hermione's she helped her guest to stand up. Feeling no resistance, Minerva half guided, half carried the woman to the large four poster bed in the far corner of the room and set her down on the edge of it. Making sure to take the wand out of Hermione's pocket first she eased the woman under the bed sheets and pulled the covers over her. This task done, Minerva set the other wand on the side table and, walking around to the other side of the bed and, crawling in under the covers, settled down to watch over her unexpected charge. She would owl the school nurse if there was no change in the morning.

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hermione awoke exactly seven hours later to the sun's rays shining through the red curtins that surrounded her bed. She'd had the oddest dream and for some unknown reason had gone to bed with her dress robes still on. Yawning, she sat up and…

Paused. Since when had her bed had red drapery? Her bed's drapery was a dark blue. It wasn't the only thing that was wrong this morning, the sun was on the wrong side of the bed. She turned her head in the other direction just to make sure that her mind wasn't playing tricks with her. No. It was dark on that side of the bed. She could only barely make out the figure beside her, eyes closed, long hair spread over the pillows…

Wait. That couldn't be right. It had been a year since she'd gone to bed with someone and the person beside her certainly wasn't Ron. She squinted and leaned towards the shadowed figure.

Hermione had her second and much larger shock of the morning. She was lying in a strange bed and a strange room next to none other than Minerva McGonagall, respected Headmistress of Hogwarts. And she had no idea how she had gotten…No. That was wrong. The Christmas dinner. Yes, that was it. She remembered someone carrying her to the bed. It had been like a dream. She had been disoriented. And all because she had seen her former transfigurations professor with her hair down. Hopefully it hadn't been too obvious to her host as to what had caused her unusual behaviour.

She winced at that thought. Minerva was considered the most intelligent witch of the age. Very little that escaped her notice.

Merlin. It was _freezing _in here. Of course. The fire had gone out. Taking her wand off the bedside table she lit the fire from where she was sitting. It was going to take hours for the room to warm up. Obviously the house-elves were having their day off. She smiled at that. Dobby had evidently succeeded in making them take their holidays.

It was too cold to be exposed to the winter air for very long in her present dress and she retreated back under the covers, careful not to wake the still sleeping woman beside her. Minerva had fallen asleep with her glasses still on and after easing them off her face, Hermione set them beside her own wand. Turning back to face her former mentor, her elbow accidentally brushed against Minerva's arm, causing the older woman to frown and stir slightly. Hermione froze. She wasn't going to wake up, was she?

To her immense surprise, the arm she had just touched reached across to her own waist and pulled her closer. Much closer. Minerva then moved her head until it was right under Hermione's own, resting on her neck, several strands of dark hair straying across her chest. Hermione could feel the woman's faint heart beat and hear her breathing slow down back to a resting rate. Minerva was thankfully still asleep.

Hermione was at a loss. Being embraced by her former transfigurations teacher was something she hadn't anticipated but she couldn't deny that she was rather pleased with her present situation. It would allow her to do something that she'd been curious about since her time as a student. Tentively, she moved her other arm and carefully reached over to place her hand on Minerva's head. This part of her plan accomplished, she slowly ran her fingers through the woman's dark hair. It was even softer than she had imagined and ever so fine. It seemed such a shame to keep this glorious hair constantly hidden in a bun. The woman was truly beautiful with it down. Impulsively, she tilted her head down and touched her lips lightly to Minerva's forehead. Smiling, Hermione settled back down into the pillows, closed her eyes and relaxed.

It was turning out to be a wonderful morning.

IIIIIIIIII

Minerva knew that something was wrong even before opening her eyes. She was holding something. Something that was warm. Something that could breathe. Something that smelled pleasant. Something that she shouldn't be holding.

She opened her eyes and instantly regretted the action.

Oh hell.

IIIIIIIIIII

Hermione was jostled awake by violent movements beside her. Sitting up, she instantly located the source. Minerva was sitting on the edge of the bed and looking around in confusion.

'Minerva?'

'Hermione, I'm sorry for waking you but have you seen my glasses?'

Hermione quickly retrieved them from the nearby bedside table and handed them back to their owner. Carefully placing them back on her straight nose, Minerva calmed down immediately and met Hermione's eyes.

'I'm practically blind without them.'

They stared at one another for a long moment. Oh Merlin, thought Hermione, this **is **awkward. What do I say? Minerva saved her from speaking by breaking the silence first.

'Breakfast?'


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: School does tend to get in the way of other activities, doesn't it?

Sorry this chapter is so late…the next (and last!) chapter's almost finished.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Neither Hermione nor Minerva had brought up the subject of what had happened that night over breakfast. Hermione was too embarrassed. She didn't even want to think of Minerva's reaction to waking up in her arms. Bringing it up again in conversation would only make it worse. The only possible explanation as to why the woman had pulled her closer was that Minerva had been cold. She had been imagining things when she had thought otherwise.

Christmas holidays ended and the students returned to Hogwarts for the new term. Classes resumed and life in the school returned to its normal state of confusion. The weekly chess games resumed; Minerva always winning despite Albus and Hermione teaming up against her. In frustration, the other portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses had joined in with their own advice, becoming increasing agitated as Hermione showed signs of losing yet again one night in March.

'Move your rook away from her queen!'

'No! If you leave it where it is you can capture the queen with your knight!'

'You're both wrong! Those pawns can corner her king in two turns. She needs to defend it.'

Hermione sighed. This wasn't getting her anywhere. Placing her hand on her remaining rook she made to move it diagonally to the opposite end of the board.

'Hermione?'

Minerva had leant forward and laid her hand over Hermione's own, cool fingers barely touching her skin. The younger woman froze mid-move.

'Here.'

Hermione allowed her rook carrying hand to be guided a quarter of the way across the board. Minerva paused over a light square and gently released her hand. Hermione obediently set down her piece as directed. The portraits on the wall had fallen silent.

Minerva moved her queen to capture the lone knight and sat back, awaiting Hermione's next move.

Of course. Now she could see it. It was so simple.

It took another twenty-three turns for Hermione to dispose of Minerva's queen and corner her king. Albus was the first to applaud. His fellow portraits joined him almost immediately. Hermione had eyes only for the woman she had just defeated.

'Thank you' she finally whispered.

Minerva had sat back in her armchair and was smiling at her with her familiar faint yet lovely smile. After a brief pause she replied in her rich contralto,

'You're welcome. I think you simply needed a slight push in the right direction.'

Hermione suddenly became aware that she was staring and quickly averted her eyes to the much safer realm of portraits, most of whom had fallen asleep once the game had ended. Minerva stood up and walked over to her desk on the far side of the room, intent of finishing the last of the paperwork left over from the day.

'Albus?' Hermione spoke quietly after moving closer to his portrait. 'Did you ever win a match against her?'

'I did not. The only times that I ever came close to defeating her were the games in which she would spot me a piece and play without her queen. I must congratulate you.'

'She…she showed me where to move my piece that turn'.

'And I doubt that it was motivated by pity, as it was when I played against her. The mere fact that she did assist speaks volumes about how she feels about you. It's quite possible that your feelings might be reciprocated should you ever share them with her.'

Hermione stared at him in horror.

'How could you know that I…'

Albus smiled, the twinkle in his eyes at its brightest, 'I'm surprised she hasn't noticed, but then again, I tend to be considered an expert on the subject of feelings whereas the field is utterly foreign to Minerva. I'm not even sure if she's fully aware of her own emotions concerning you.'

'You won't tell her, will you?' The young woman's voice had an edge of fear to it.

'I shall leave that task in your capable hands, Hermione. Please don't make the same mistake I did and only admire her in silence. She deserves to be told when the time is right. '

IIIIIIIIIIIII

The end of the school year was accompanied by the usual bright, sunny weather. Exams finished, the students had left that very morning on the Hogwarts Express back to London. Hermione was sitting by the only window in the deserted staff room, marking the end of term papers that her sixth years had handed in the previous afternoon. She had been in a horrible mood since breakfast. Her parents had gone to a conference in the United States and would not be back for several weeks. Ginny and Harry had vanished on a secret vacation in an attempt to escape the constant publicity that followed them everywhere. It seemed that she would be spending most of the summer alone. She let out an loud groan of frustration just as the door opened and illuminated the room with sunlight from the windows in the hall.

'The papers can't be that badly written, can they?'

Minerva had strode into the room carrying a large box which contained, from what Hermione could see, stacks of letters and parchment. Sighing, the younger woman tossed the essay she had been reading on the table in front of her and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her hands, wincing in pain.

'No, I'm just having a few difficulties arranging my plans for the summer. I'd rather not spend a month in my parents' house alone but I don't feel like traveling abroad.'

Setting the box she had been holding on the table, Minerva straightened to her full height and turned to face Hermione, hands behind her back and head tilted slightly to one side. After a short pause she spoke.

'What about staying in Scotland?'

'At Hogwarts?'

The older woman gave a low laugh. 'No. Not at Hogwarts. At my manor in the North. I realize you're not too fond of the Scottish weather, but it can be quite lovely where I live, despite the rain.'

Hermione bit her lip, hesitating; 'I don't want to intrude on your privacy.'

'Don't be absurd. I'd love the company. And you'll get the chance to see the rest of the McGonagall collection.'

'Bribing me with books? That's cheating!'

Minerva turned back to her box with a smirk.

'You're just upset because you can't resist the prospect of an unexplored library.'

IIIIIIIIIIII


	4. Chapter 4

A week later Hermione found herself seated across from her colleague at the dining table, laughing at Minerva's tales of classes she'd taught over her teaching career. They had finished supper and had spent the last hour exchanging stories over tea.

'… the amount of trouble those children got up to that term. And, although I'm loath to admit it, the Gryffindors were the worst. Seven staff members retired the following year and I certainly couldn't blame them for leaving. Those third years were little terrors; I could have happily strangled several of them by the end of the second week.'

The mental picture of Minerva McGonagall throttling a student was disturbingly easy to visualize and startled Hermione so much that she choked on the biscuit she'd been eating. It took a great deal of coughing to dislodge the ginger flavoured cookie from her esophagus. Minerva continued only when she had satisfied herself that her former student was not going to asphyxiate at her dining room table.

'I believe that the thing which annoyed me most was their habit of summoning the pins out of my bun when I was teaching a lesson. It drove me wild. I began charming those bloody pins to my head every morning'. Minerva scowled at the memory. 'Albus found it highly amusing. As I recall, the year after that class had graduated he hexed the them out when I was halfway through the Sorting list. I didn't speak to him for three months after that. It took forever to intimidate the classes that term'.

'Why don't you wear your hair down?'

Hermione winced inwardly as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Minerva McGonagall was not someone you discussed appearance with over tea.

Minerva raised a dark eyebrow. 'Practicality, I suppose. There's nothing worse than having hair in your eyes when you're casting a spell. I have very little tolerance for things that annoy and pinning it up saves a great deal of vexation.'

'That's a pity- you have such lovely hair'.

Hermione listened on in fascinated horror as the words slipped from her mouth. Gods. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

To her immense surprise, her colleague's face flushed red in embarrassment. She had been expecting a Cruciatus curse.

'Thank-you.'

Hermione was suddenly inspired to do a very brave and exceedingly dangerous thing. Desperation drove her. She spoke the two necessary words and flicked her wand.

'_Accio Hairpins!'_

Minerva's pins happily shot out of her hair and flew across the table to Hermione's outstretched hand. The hair that had been confined for so long slid out of it's tight bun and soundlessly fell down over Minerva's shoulders to her mid-back. Hermione and sat back in her chair, surveying her handiwork with a smile.

'Much better.'

Minerva's glare was effectively ruined by the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

'Alas, my favorite student has been corrupted by my former employer,' she said with an exaggerated sigh. 'However shall I win her back over to my side?'

It was Hermione's turn to flush. She could think of a several things that Minerva could do to win her over. None of them were even remotely innocent.

Luckily for her, at that precise moment a large owl sailed through one of the open dining room windows and skidded across the table, knocking over the sugar bowl and a pitcher of cream in the process.

Hermione, glad for a distraction, quickly retrieved her wand from her robes and repaired the damage that the bird had inflicted upon their poor tea-set. Minerva gently scolded the owl while opening the letter it had given her, flipping her loose hair over one shoulder. She began to frown as soon as she read the opening lines. Half-way down the page her lip began to curl upwards and upon finishing the parchment, Minerva looked murderous.

'Those…ignorant…foolish…_savages!' _Minerva spat out.

The letter was suddenly engulfed in flames, flashing to ash in an instant. The owl fled out the window from which it had entered. Hermione cautiously edged closer to her host.

'What have the Governors done now?'

Minerva rounded on her guest, her eyes flashing.

'It's the Ministry this time. They wish to start…_charging fees_…to students that attend Hogwarts. This is the last straw- '

She was interrupted by Hermione's finger on her lips.

'I take it that you're off to discuss this small matter with the Minister?'

'You would be correct' she said stiffly.

Hermione removed her index finger.

'I pity him already.'

This earned her a slight smile.

They walked over to the fireplace and Minerva grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. She was interrupted by a slight cough from Hermione.

'Minerva?'

'Yes?'

'Has anyone at the Ministry ever seen you with your hair down?'

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione reached up and deftly spun the hair she had freed only a few moments ago into it's usual bun and inserted the pins back into place. This task completed, she turned Minerva around by the shoulders and inspected her handy-work with a critical eye. Satisfied, she stepped back and murmured,

'Don't stay away too long.'

Minerva tilted her head to one side and gave Hermione an indecipherable look. Emotions other than frustration and anger at the Ministry lay behind her dark eyes. After a moment she blinked and, collecting herself, tossed the handful of Floo powder on the dining room fireplace and strode into the green flames.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Hermione sighed. The evening had been going so wonderfully until that thrice-cursed letter had arrived. And now Minerva would be gone for hours. This would, however, give her time to browse the gigantic library which she had been shown earlier. Walking into the next room she went to the nearest of the huge bookshelves and casually scanned the titles. Within ten seconds she felt her heart stop.

'_Rare Potions and Antidotes of the Empires'._

Hermione ran her forefinger down the spine of the ancient leather-bound book and carefully eased it off the shelf. Gods. She'd finally found it. The first spell book about potions ever written. Hermione had been searching for a copy for years, unsuccessfully, and all this time there had been one here, under her very nose. Walking over to the nearest armchair, she lifted up the cover and turned to the first page. She was completely enthralled by the second sentence.

IIIIIIIIIIII

Minerva studied the young woman sitting beside the fire, absorbed in a small and innocent looking book. Doubtlessly, her colleague had begun to read just after she had left for the Ministry, more than three hours ago. And she showed no signs of stopping. Just like you, Minerva thought to herself, ruefully. She remembered spending whole summers going through the family library, sometimes unintentionally skipping meals in order to finish the last chapters of an interesting book. Completely oblivious to the outside world and its goings on. Visitors to the house could go right up to her and wave their hands in front of her face and she wouldn't notice them.

This gave her an idea.

Quietly walking over to the fire, Minerva stepped behind the armchair that Hermione was reading in and waited. After a moment's pause, she leant down over the back of the chair and, as gently as possible, touched her lips to the younger woman's hair.

It was at that precise moment that Minerva found that some things _could_ distract Hermione from her reading.

IIIIIIIIIIII

Hermione was half-way through a badly written summary of how to make a two millennia old love potion using cow's liver and snake skin when she became aware of the lightest of touches on her head. Raising her chin up toward the source she found herself face to face with a very surprised looking Minerva.

Had she just…_kissed her?_

IIIIIIIIIIIII

Minerva was horrified. Hermione wasn't supposed to have noticed the kiss! What was she to say? What was she to do? What was Hermione going to say?

To her great surprise, the last question was answered almost immediately in a low, trembling voice.

'Care to do that again?'

Hermione was gazing at her with the oddest expression on her face. She looked almost…joyful. No. _Elated_. When Minerva didn't respond to her question, the younger woman placed the now forgotten book on the side table and walked around to face her former teacher. Hermione reached up with her right hand and softly caressed Minerva's right cheek. When this touch wasn't rejected, Hermione raised her other hand to the long neck and ran her fingertips along the angular jaw line. She finally brushed her lips across the older woman's with a contented sigh and murmured.

'Do you want to know how patient I've had to be, just waiting for this moment?'

She was rewarded with another kiss.

And many more would follow.

IIIIIIIIIII

_End Notes:_

_Well. That took a while to finish, didn't it? _

_Do leave a comment and tell me what you'd like to see in the next set of stories concerning Minerva and Hermione. More romance? More kissing? More (grimace) bed scenes?_

_Have a good Christmas. _


End file.
